The Diary of a Winchester
by whYFeL
Summary: As the title suggests. Majorly huge spoiler for Season 2. Language problems. It's him, after all.
1. First Few Days

Author's note:

_**Last year, I was approached by my Supernatural "Corruptor" to help her for her upcoming project paper presentation (to complete her final semester of college). One of her items of presentation is a journal, purpotedly written by a certain Dean Winchester. After squealing my heart out and jumping around for joy for approximately 5 minutes, I happily agreed to help. Thus this was born, and she also consented for me to put it up here, since Season Two is currently airing on our local channel, finally. (Thanks a bunch, ne, Xan-chan!) **_

_**Though my initial work comprised of the first 4 episodes, and the last, of Season Two, I'll be glad to add on if there are requests for more, though it will regretfully cover only Season Two (for the simple fact that 1- I don't live in the U.S of A, and 2- I'm too broke to go to an Internet cafe often to catch the latest Season Three episodes). Any shoutouts and flames can be directed to the Review page, and will be duly noted and dealt with accordingly. **_

**_Standard Disclaimer applies (though imagination is a wonderful, _wonderful_ thing), and I hope you will like my humble offering._**

* * *

i.

It's been three days.

Three days since I checked myself out. Four since I woke up in the hospital, with absolutely no clue how I got there – only what Sammy and told me. And...

God, it's so fucking **hard**. I just can't—

_(later)_

Well, glad Sam found most our stuff ok. Weapons n stuff, whatever broken, Bobby couda supply new ones. Thank God Sammy thought to call, ask him haul my baby to his place. I don't wanna lose her. We lost too much...

It's funny. Sam never knew, I mean, he knows I got this journal, like . He dunno what I put in it. Sure, 's mostly stuff about our gigs, extra info. Been at it since I strike out my own, working my jobs, easy to remember. Sammy wouda say 'for future reference'. Geek.

It helps though. What I can't say out, I sorta can here. Sam know not to pry. I ain't peekin his stuff, he leaves mine alone. Only with permission.

He's sleepin now. It's late, early, whatever. Been four days now. Can't sleep, not yet. We're both fuck tired, but I can't sleep. 'm swallowing JD writin here, so it not gonna make sense I guess don't even know how JD survive crash.

It was just hours before. Think I'm getting toooo old now. Hell, now I am the oldest Winchester. Gotta take care of Sammy now, alone. **HE** said so Last order. Or

... gonna sleep now. lease try. Chest hurts, a bit, but better, considering—We gonnabe stayin here, a while. Bobby don't mind. wish Pastor

_(later)_

God, I must have been drinking too much yesterday. That was just... Godawful. I want so bad to throw it away... but I can't. Won't. What I wrote last time, it's all real. Even now. So I won't. It's a reminder, of sort.

If only he could see me now...


	2. Clown Haters

Author's note:

_**Chapter Two up. This touches majorly on episode 2.02. **_

* * *

ii.

Been working my ass off on my car. Poor baby... I swear I'm gonna hunt the bastard who did this and blow him some new ones.

Didn't let anybody else touch it. Sam'd offered to help, he's worried, but I can't. She's mine. I gotta do this alone. I think he understands. I think he thinks I don't trust him. Hell, I'm not sure what he thinks anymore. It's years of difference cramped into one frigging week.

We burned him. We salted and burned him. **Him**, of all people. Six nights ago. We scattered his ashes some, Sammy did. I can't—couldn't. Some we keep in this small fancy jar thing, Sammy did that too. Cried the entire time, hands shook badly he almost spilled, but he did. Helped me torched him – my hands shook worse than his. Wanted to bawl my eyes out so bad, almost did, but can't let Sammy see I'm weak. He needs me. Gotta be strong for him. Gotta take care of him. His orders. Can't think of the alternative.

One week, and I still can't write his name.

Sammy asked if he said anything. I said no. Can't tell him. Not that. He's my brother.

He can't shake off their last conversation, the fight. Last fight, almost. Sent Sammy to get some caffeine, didn't want to fight. Sammy kept apologizing, to me. He didn't mean to. They both never mean to. And I'm I was stuck in the middle.

Sam's gonna go through his stuff tomorrow, see what we can find, what he left at Bobby's. Bobby managed to find his truck. It was dumped at some yard, Bobby got it out with no trouble. He knew the guy there, helped him once. Wonder what we can use. Should be lots of stuff still there, if they hadn't taken anything out.

---------------------------------------------------

iii.

God, never thought I'm gonna write so much here, now. I'd die if Sammy reads all this shit.

Got some stuff we can use. He had good arsenal. Sam tinkered with his cell phone code, so listened to his messages too. Surprised, he kept some we sent him. Like Lawrence. And my heart attack. There's this one lady, says her name's Ellen. Offers her help apparently. That's damn important. Gotta meet her. Sam traced her address, we asked Bobby about her a bit, where to find her and all. He seemed reluctant, but he did tell. Wonder why.

Need a car, but all Bobby got is this tiny, ugly, noisy, soccer-mum _**van**_. I hate it, but we got no choice. I'm driving. There isn't even a decent radio. **Shit**.

---------------------------------------------------

iv.

Ellen Harvelle turns out to be a hunter. Huh.

She runs the Roadhouse, bar-plus-everything-else for **hunters**. Place to stop, recharge, find info, have a couple beers at it. Funny, he never told me about this place.

Sammy's been real quiet during the ride. Didn't even offer to drive. Just looked out, hands clenched the entire time. Maybe he's nervous about meeting this Ellen – but I think it's more than that. He still hurts. Me too. And there's something else. I'll find out later.

Pretty charming reception we got. Our fault I guess, the place looked empty, we just walked in. Had guns pointed at us, from a lady and a younger one, both blondes. Turned out to be Ellen and her daughter Jo. Good-looking chick, Jo, nearly busted my nose though.

She and her late husband, Bill, used to know him. Sam told her about him, said we need a job. She seemed upset by it but she understood, gave us one. It's about killer clowns. (Sam sort of blanched at that. Heh.) I chatted Jo up a bit, but it fell flat. It's too soon. They introduced us to Ash, strangest guy I ever met. Not a hunter, he's more like an informer. And apparently damn good with a computer – makes Sammy look pathetic. Passed whatever info we were left with to him to figure out, he asked for time – 51 hours, exact. Hence the clown job.

Sam's been pushing at me since that night, hovering worse than a mother hen, like he's afraid I'd shatter or something. It's driving me _**nuts. **_I just can't seem to hide from him like I used to – or maybe 'cos he's grown now. And he's changed even more than after Jess, more eager to hunt, like he's trying to make up for 23 years of fighting with ... One time, after getting busted going after the clown, I snapped at him. Accused him of being a hypocrite – after going head to head with _**Dad**_ for so long, now he's suddenly the obedient one? Threw him off good with that. Felt like shit about it, but I can't let him see how it's tearing me up inside, this burning rage, the pain, fear. What I wanted most, gone just like that. And what he's said about Sammy...

So, clown is actually a rakhsasha, a Hindu demon-god in disguise, feeding off human flesh every 15-20 years, almost like that It thing. It followed this traveling circus fair thing around, we thought it was the owner, turned out to be the blind dagger thrower. Circus guys really are a freaky bunch. Got the info from Ellen since he never mentioned it in his journal, probably never come across one. I jot it down – feels weird writing in his book, but it's ours to keep now, so.

Ash is a frigging genius! Did like he promised – didn't exactly nailed YEB down, but he got this freaky computer to actually configure all demonic signs, detect any change all over the country. If that bastard showed up anywhere, we'd know soon as Ash knows. Said he learned it at MIT. Figures. We'll probably drop by the Roadhouse again. Ellen offered rooms, but I gotta get back to my baby, she needs me. Took us longer since we ditched the ugly van – Sam frowned at any attempt to steal, so we hitch-hiked all the way to Bobby's. Good thing old man didn't chew our ears off about it. Can't wait to start working on her again, I missed my baby.

_(later)_

I totally totaled the hood. I don't know what came over me, I'd never would have hurt the car. But Sam... he's not all right, still trying to deal with everything, I get that, know that. But he knew too, that I'm not dealing well with this. It scared me that he knew, made my blood boil so hot I was seeing red. Waited until Sam was out of sight, lashed out at the only thing I could. He shouldn't have said it.

Haven't spoken to him yet, I'm afraid it's gonna turn ugly, so better not say anything yet. Bobby knows something's up, but he's not gonna interfere. Didn't even flip when I asked about replacement for the bashed-in hood. All things considered, he's been pretty cool about all this shit, taking in the boys of the man he'd had a falling out with, giving free reins with his stuff and all. We're gonna have to find a way to pay him back.

Dammit, I really wish something would come up just so I can shoot it in the face. I just hope Sam don't get it into his freaky head to have his talk with me, not now, not yet. Need to get myself under control, put my game face on, like always. And gotta apologize to my baby tomorrow.


End file.
